"Howard, you are wanted—her ladyship finds your assistance and presence indispensable—but, before you go, I pray you to bequeath to me your seat."
With evident reluctance—Emma's only consolation, he rose, and turning to her said—
"Since, I must leave you—will you allow me to present to you my friend, Sir William Gordon—but, remember, Gordon," he added, laughing, "I shall expect my proxy to resign in my favour, the moment I return to claim the situation."
"Don't build too much upon that," cried the young Sir William, whose gay, animated countenance, would certainly have prepossessed Emma in his favour, had he not turned out Mr. Howard.
In spite, however, of his lively address, her eyes followed the other gentleman; and she perceived that Lady Osborne, after some conversation with him, sent him to fetch some young ladies from the other side of the room; and, after a good deal of bustle and change, succeeded in locating him in a corner close to herself. It was vain to watch longer, there seemed not the slightest prospect of a release for him; and, fearful lest her looks should attract notice or betray her feelings, she endeavoured to confine her attention to what was immediately around her. The music had not yet commenced, and there was neither opportunity nor inclination wanting on the part of her neighbour to amuse her with conversation.
"Have you been often at the castle?" enquired he, presently; "I do not remember to have seen you here; yet I think I should have noticed your face, had we met before."
Emma informed him that she was a comparative stranger in the neighbourhood, and had rarely been at Osborne Castle.
"Then are you sure that you are aware of the state of family politics? Are you conversant with the position of parties in the establishment?"
"On the contrary, I am quite ignorant—possessing no knowledge, and little curiosity."
"Oh, impossible! all women are curious, more or less. You must wish to have a peep behind the scenes."